


Season 13. Episode 1. Revelation.

by pastann



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Season/Series 13, pre episode s12e22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:58:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastann/pseuds/pastann
Summary: My totally not official, episode 1 of Season 13. About 2/3. WIP. Sam's dead. Lucifer and his son are alive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Season 13. Episode 1. Revelation.**

 

**Prelude (flashbacks to the last episodes of the previous season):**

An escaped Lucifer stands at the top of a mountain, surveying the world. Crowley hides in a mouse scurrying after his body. Mary Winchester and Ketch drive away after sealing Sam, Dean, and Toni Bevell in the Bunker. Castiel and Kelly Kline drive away from the portal to Heaven after killing Dagon.

Dean takes on a curse to escape from the Bunker. Castiel and Kelly Kline flee to Denver/Golden Gate Canyon State Park, where Castiel wards a shelter. Lucifer flies around the world, making contact with political leaders. Toni meets Dr. Hess. Lucifer tears Castiel apart limb-from-limb, as the baby is born. Sam and Dean use a device from the BMOL to banish Lucifer to Hell. Sam closes the gates to Hell by curing a demon. Kelly Kline gives birth to Lucifer’s son and dies. A nearby lake turns into a portal to Heaven.

 

**Heaven. Night.**

 

Sam lies on top of the Impala next to a child Dean, watching fireworks explode in the sky. Suddenly, Dean and the fireworks freeze in place.

 

“Dean!” Sam yells. He tries to shake his brother, and then clings to Dean. Dean doesn’t move.

 

A circle of angels appear, staring at Sam. Sam sits bolt upright and slides off the Impala. He faces a few of the angels, with his back to the car and child Dean, who is still frozen.

 

“So, it’s true,” an angel says.

 

“It’s a miracle,” another angel says.

“What’s a miracle?” Sam asks.

 

“Do you remember what happened?” a third angel says.

 

Flashback: Sam curing the demon. A huge ray of light swallows him and his soul splits into the bars of cage. A smushy-faced baby screams loudly: Castiel’s body reforms and two bright souls float into a beautiful lake in the park.

 

“You are blessed. The first soul to enter Heaven through the new doorway,” a fourth angel says.

 

“A blessed abomination,” a fifth angel says. “See him, how his soul bears the marks of his demonic taint.”

 

Sam looks at the angel.

 

“Yet his soul is here, brothers,” a sixth angel says quietly.

 

A solemn angel suddenly appears. “Leave him,” the angel says. The other angels walk away and disappear. “Come,” the angel says to Sam.

 

Sam stares at the angel for a moment, then stands next to the angel. They walk a few steps down a dark highway and appear in a lush arboretum.

“Joshua?” Sam asks.

 

“Perhaps,” the angel says. “More than one miracle occurred with the birth of Lucifer’s son. The bells of Heaven rang. A second doorway to Heaven appeared. A new world was born--”

 

Sam startles, but the angel continues to speak as if Sam did not react. They walk down a path in the arboretum, surrounded by lush greenery, flowers, hanging plants, vines, and under the branches of tall, tropical trees.

 

“Lucifer is trapped in Hell, and his son did not save him...”

 

“Wh…” Sam starts to ask.

 

“Castiel took the child and has hidden him from us,” the angel says calmly. The path they walk on gets darker. “But we have another task for you, if you choose.”

 

The angel stops. The trail continues into darkness. “We do not know where this trail leads. It appeared here. In the heart of Heaven. In the Garden.”

 

Sam looks at the darkness, then at the angel next to him. “How will I come back?” He looks at the angel. “Or get a message to you?”

 

A ball of dull-brown jute twine appears in the palm of the angel’s hand. He unwinds it and Sam reaches out and takes one end of the twine. “Do not let go of the end,” the angel says.

 

Sam ties the twine around his finger, then looks at the angel. The ball unwinds as the angel stands there. Sam steps into the darkness.

  


**British Men of Letters Installation.**

**A Control Room.**

**Washington, D.C.**

In the sterile, cold steel room, filled with monitors, Dean sits tensely on an office chair and watches a news report:

 

Two reporters sit in front of a map. The woman reporter shuffles papers on the desk and says, “In an abrupt turn of events, President Rooney has issued an executive order to start construction of a wall between Mexico and the United States _and_ between Canada and the United States. The legalities of this are unclear and yet to be decided as a district court judge ruling in ….”

 

Ketch and Mary Winchester walk into the room. Dean leaps to his feet and says, “Mom!” His mom ignores him.

 

Mary Winchester says, “The situation is worse. Lucifer’s influencing events even with Hell shut.”

Arthur Ketch responds, “That’s only to be expected. Closure of Hell won’t keep an archangel trapped for long.”

“That poor boy. His sacrifice bought us time to plan,” Mary says.

“Mom, Sam was your son--” Dean bursts out.

“Cool it,” Mary says coldly.

 

Dean freezes.

 

“Toni needs to accelerate his training,” Mary says to Ketch.

“Mary, let us go to another control room,” Ketch say solicitously. “This hunter appears … overly excitable.”

 

Dean says. “I’ll leave. I’m done watching.” He walks out of the room. Two tears runs down his face.

 

On the TV, the scene shifts to a woman standing by a highway where Army personnel are constructing a wall. “The practical aspects of building a _wall_ between countries remains yet to be addressed. And President Rooney’s hardline stance has been met by sanctions from...”

 

“What does Dr. Hess plan?” Mary asks.

 

“Well, it’s unusual to intervene at this level internationally, but given the circumstances, I think she’ll have us take out the current world leaders who are under Lucifer’s influence. The conference in Strasbourg, and then Malta, for Europe. We’ll be able to ward their successors. It uses witchcraft, which the Men of Letters stands against, but again, the unusual circumstances,” Ketch says stiffly.

 

“Yes. So we’ll be on the team for the United States?”

 

Ketch gives a curt twitch of his head. “We’ll kill President Rooney, then head north to Canada. Lady Bevell’s team will handle the capitol buildings and residences as we proceed. Oddly enough, she believes that 24 Sussex Drive will be more complex to ward than the White House.”

 

“Do you trust her?” Mary asks.

 

“I trust her competence in these dire times. Even with that … yahoo on her team. You know what I think of her, personally,” Ketch says.

 

“I do,” Mary gives him a smile. “As far as the bigger picture goes,” she sighs. Mary slips her hand into his. Ketch squeezes her hand. They go back to watching the news report.

 

“...Thanks,” the reporter says, as she finishes an interview with a young soldier working at the site. “And back to you Liliana...”

  


**British Men of Letters Installation.**

**Central Control Room.**

**Washington, D.C.**

 

Dr. Hess, Toni Bevell, and a BMOL agent stand in a loose circle.

 

“He’ll be greatly weakened as he breaks through, but if I have--” Toni says.

 

Dean bursts through the door into the Central Control Room.

 

“Ah, Dean,” Toni says. “Welcome, join us.”

 

Dean walks to the group, a haunted look on his face.

 

“We were just discussing a matter of importance related to you,” Toni says. “I want you to lead the warding on the White House buildings. I cannot be distracted by the possibility that Lucifer could break through to Earth at any moment. Dr. Hess, surely--”

 

Dr. Hess says, “The Old Men will act. Focus on your mission. The American Problem is yours. I am giving you this opportunity.” She gives Toni Bevell a hard look, then turns away slightly, signalling an end to the conversation.

 

“Of course, Dr. Hess. I won’t disappoint you.” Toni looks at Dean and the two of them walk outside into the hallway. Dean eyes her warily.

 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Toni says. “We’re allies, for now.”

 

“Allies,” Dean says in a raw voice. “What did you do to mom?”

 

“I trained her, just as I was ordered to,” she says.

 

“Trained,” Dean repeats.

 

“I appreciate your family’s sacrifice, Dean. Taking on the curse got us out of the Bunker. I would have taken it myself, but you so kindly stepped forward. And your brother. I changed my mind about him. He was a good man. Humanity has a fighting chance thanks to him.”

 

“Are you training me?” Dean asks.

 

“Never think that. I would never train you, Dean,” Toni says. “You’re useful to the British Men of Letters as you are. The knowledge you have of current events and resources could be damaged if I trained you. Your mother on the other hand, was out-of-date and had nothing to lose.”

 

Dean looks at her.

 

“I’m sorry for your loss. But I have no control over that. Now, you’re a skilled witch, if you think of yourself as that,” Toni says. “Let’s check your hex bags and make sure the curse is suppressed before we proceed on the mission. You already have a criminal record in the United States. I’m sure another murder charge won’t bother you too much, even one for a President. That level of observation certainly hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

 

Dean looks at her. He doesn’t say anything, but continues to follow her into a room filled with magic devices.

 

“Take a look around. I’m sure you’ll see something you like.” Toni gives Dean a sharp look.

 

Dean glares at her grudgingly, but walks to a shelf with a flat, steel box and unlocks it with a key he takes out of his pocket. Inside the box is a horn and a white rock.

  


**Golden Canyon State Park.**

**Outside of Denver, CO.**

 

A mouse scurries through the forest and along a log. A woman’s leg appears, then the rest of her body: she’s dressed in the taste of an elderly woman, but her face and body are young.

 

Crowley wakes up on the forest floor.

 

“My lord,” the woman says.

 

“Tatiana, my dear. I am eternally grateful,” Crowley says smugly. He stands, brushes himself off and kisses her hand. He straightens up and drops her hand. Crowley snaps his fingers and disappears, leaving Tatiana in the wilderness.

 

The scene flashes to Lucifer: he sits on his throne in Hell, speaking to himself quietly. “Run little mouse.”

  


**A Montessori preschool.**

**Gennevilliers, France.**

 

The cheerful, orderly classroom is full of Montessori learning toys and children of varying ages from toddlers to Kindergarteners: buttoning shirts mounted on boards, drawing, doing geography puzzles, counting with sticks and blocks, looking at pictures of boats and vehicles laid on a cloth on the clean wood floor, painting, playing in a sandbox, watering plants, cleaning a mat, and sweeping. A teacher’s aide and a group of children set places at small, child-sized tables for a snack.

 

Castiel stands at the doorway, carrying a toddler. He faces a slim, kind-faced woman in her thirties or forties and places two of his fingers on the woman’s forehead. She blinks and speaks in French; the dialogue is subtitled: “Yes, of course. One day is fine.”

 

“Thank you, Celine,” Castiel says in French (subtitled in English).

 

“And what is your nephew’s name?” Celine asks.

 

“He hasn’t decided on his name yet,” Castiel answers.

 

“How remarkable,” Celine says.

 

“Yes, it is remarkable,” Castiel says with a smile. The toddler watches the grown-ups curiously and looks eagerly at the school room.

 

“What shall the other children call him?” Celine asks.

 

Castiel looks at the toddler in his arms.

 

“Yom,” Castiel says. The toddler squirms.

 

“Please, come in,” Celine says. “You wish to spend the day with him?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel says with a peaceful smile. Castiel walks slowly into the room.

 

“We’re about to have snack time,” the teacher says.

 

Castiel puts the toddler down next to a bustle of children of varying ages, from toddlers to Kindergarten-aged children. A teacher’s aide stands by a child carefully as the child carefully takes out a pan of mini quiches from the oven. Yom looks on eagerly, but stays close to Castiel. “Yom, and his uncle Castiel,” the teacher tells the aide. The aide nods at them, “Julia,” she says.

 

“We wash our hands when we come into the room,” Celine reminds Castiel gently.

 

“Of course, it’s a good idea to wash our hands before we eat,” Castiel says. He washes Yom’s hands as Yom looks around the room curiously. “Mortals are prone to a variety of illnesses that can be transferred by touch and especially when transferred from their hands to their mouths, diarrheal diseases,” Castiel explains in a whisper.

 

They look at the room. Castiel crouches next to Yom. “Perhaps we could help set the table for breakfast,” Castiel suggests. Yom looks at Castiel.

 

A cluster of children put heavy plates and napkins by each seat. Another child puts out glasses for water and a third child carries small pitchers of water to each square table. Castiel takes a stack of three plastic glasses from the teacher’s aide and crouches again and hands it to Yom.

 

Yom awkwardly pulls a cup off the stack and sets it down on the table. He looks around and slowly takes off another cup, setting it in front of another seat.

 

Children begin to sit down at the table as snack is almost ready. Yom puts a glass in front of an adorable little girl, a couple years older, but the same size as Yom. Fine-boned and delicate. She looks adorable. He smiles at her and she smiles back and says, “Merci.” Yom sits next to her. He looks up at Castiel. The children sing a song, led by the teacher. Castiel and Yom join in. As the teacher’s aide puts out the mini quiches, buttered peas, small plates of green bean salad, and cut up pieces of poached pear for the children to serve themselves. Yom looks up at Castiel.

 

Castiel shakes his head and whispers, “It tastes like molecules to me, now. When I was human, food tasted wonderful.” Castiel smiles at the adorable girl sitting next to Yom. The girl serves herself a spoonful of peas, then passes the small serving bowl to Yom. She stares at them as Castiel helps Yom with the peas, but is too intimidated by Castiel to speak.

 

With Castiel’s help, Yom takes a forkful of peas and eats it, smooshing butter on his face.

 

“Good,” Yom says in French (subtitled in English.)

 

Castiel backs away. He stands watching as the girl giggles and says, “Peas are Teacher Celine’s favorite.”

 

Yom stares at Teacher Celine.

 

A boy at the table starts to sing tra-la-la-la. He knocks over his water cup as he reaches for the pitcher. The girl next to Yom reaches for the serving bowl of peas. “Peas,” she says demandingly. Castiel stares on with a worried look, but Yom passes the bowl to her without comment, then he puts his fork down and uses his fingers to pick up peas.

 

“Nono,” the teacher’s aide rushes over and scolds Yom. “Your hands will get messy.” Castiel wrings his hands as he watches, but Julia wipes of Yom’s fingers with a napkin and hands him a fork without any supernatural incidents.


	2. Chapter 2

# New York

**Suffolk County Community College**

President Rooney stands in front of a crowded meeting room of police officers. His once-smooth face is twisted with hatred and grows redder as he screams.

“...these murders, just throw them in! Let them die! They’re killers...” President Rooney gags. He gasps for breath and grabs the podium.

In the back of the crowd, Mary calmly watches the President choke. She’s dressed in a police officer’s uniform.

In the front, two police officers glance at each other. One of them says, “Mr. President…?”

President Rooney slumps lower over the podium. The two nearest police officers and a secret service agent step forward. One puts an arm around the President, supporting his body, “Mr. President.” By the door to the room, an aide in a suit motions jerkily to the secret service agent. The agent speaks rapidly into his headset.

At the front, an officer turns around and strides to a corner where another officer opens a large medical kit and hands him an epipen. The officer walks quickly to the front of the room and jabs the President in the thigh. The President continues to choke.

Mary looks completely calm, at odds to the rustling police officers in the room.

“Clear the room,” the aide yells, his voice is loud in the mostly silent room.

The officer moves behind the President and clasps his arms around the President’s chest, underneath the arms. The President’s head lolls to one side, his body a dead weight.

Mary is one of the first to leave. She walks out of the conference room, and down the bright hallways of the community college, and out the glass doors. A black SUV with darkened windows swings up to the loading zone. She opens the passenger door. Ketch is in the driver’s seat.

“It took,” Mary says.

“Excellent,” Ketch says. They pull away from the parking lot.

# Heaven. The Garden. Day.

The angel stands on the tree-lined path in the arboretum. With infinite patience, he lets the ball of twine unwind into the darkness.

With a sudden beat of wings, Castiel appears. He places one hand around the outstretched twine and clasps it in his fist, holding it still. “What are you doing?”

The angel draws his angel blade. “Castiel.”

Castiel glares at the other angel. “Put your blade away.”

“I am no fool to put down my blade in front of _you_ ,” the angel says rudely.

“Your tone is disrespectful, Hadraniel,“ Castiel says.

“I offer you the respect you earned with your .... _free will_ ,” Hadraniel says.

Castiel looks exasperated, then he gathers himself. “Very well, then. What are you doing?”

“What will you do if I answer?” Hadraniel asks coolly.

“That depends,” Castiel says. “What is this?” He tightens his grip on the twine and pulls it, drawing the twine backwards -- out of the darkness.

Hadraniel’s eyes follow Castiel’s clenched fist. “One of our brothers looks into the new world.”

“Don’t lie to me. No angel can pass into the new world,“ Castiel says evenly. He tugs the twine again. Hadraniel’s eyes follow the movement.

“So you know of this place. Tell me more,” Hadraniel says.

“This conversation has no purpose,” Castiel says. He draws his angel blade - it looks different - and moves his arm sharply--

“Stop! I sent a soul to look. It may be lost if you destroy the tether,” Hadraniel interjects hastily. Castiel pauses as Hadraniel speaks.

“A soul?” Castiel says. “Could you not wait a single day before taking action that--”

“ _You!_ You speak of the consequences of actions! It is my duty to defend the gateway to Heaven. And here is a gateway breaching the walls of Heaven and putting all that we guard in danger,” Hadraniel says.

“If this soul--” Castiel says darkly.

“I sent a soul blessed by your nephilim,” Hadraniel says.

“Whose soul did you send?” Castiel asks.

“Samuel Winchester.”

“Sam,” Castiel sighs. He reels the twine in.

While Castiel faces the darkness in the Garden, Hadraniel dashes forward.

Castiel twists and grabs Hadraniel’s blade a moment before it would have entered his body - a yellow light creeps up Hadraniel’s fist and then his arm, freezing the angel’s arm in place: Hadraniel shudders. He kicks at Castiel. Castiel blocks the kick with his leg and their legs tangle as the yellow light swallows Hadraniel’s leg and head. Hadraniel freezes.

Castiel disentangles his leg and reels in the twine. Sam walks out of the darkness, the twine tugging at his hand. “Cas! You’re alive!” Sam’s eyes take in the angel frozen with yellow light. He stops. The twine is tied around his finger.

“I am. However, I do not have the time for lengthy explanations and the actions necessary to allay your suspicions.” Castiel steps forward - releasing Hadraniel - and puts two fingers on Sam’s forehead. Sam closes his eyes.

Castiel grips Sam’s arms: they disappear.

# A parallel universe. A grassy mound. Night.

Sam drops behind a high mound of grass-covered earth. His unconscious body lands on top of one of two figures taking cover behind the mound. Streaks of green and red light shoot overhead.

“Whoof-” a light voice muffles itself and manhandles Sam partly off her body, so she can breathe.

The other figure is focused on the battle taking place and scrambles up the grassy mound. He lifts his staff and aims it over the top: bursts of light pulse from the crystal at the top of the staff. Muffled thumps that sound like explosions rock the air. The figure slides down the mound as a chain-reaction of explosions sound out and the air flashes with multi-colored light, like fireworks exploding at point-blank range, making it impossible to see the people there.

The chain of explosions come every few seconds, coming closer and closer. Sam stirs on top of the slight figure underneath him, who is covering her ears from the blasts.

“Hah. They won’t recover from that easily,” a man’s voice says smugly. He seems to notice Sam for the first time. “When? … Did this …,“ he sputters haplessly.

“He fell out of the sky!” The woman sounds horrified. “Through an interdimensional rift!”

“So, not one of your current boyfriends then?” ‘Castiel’ says lightly.

“Shut up. He’s...he’s not a whole being….” The woman sounds mildly fascinated or perhaps revolted, it’s difficult to tell from her sarcastic voice.

Sam opens his eyes. A final explosion of white fireworks illuminates their faces and then the explosions stop. An alternate dimension ‘Castiel’ and ‘Meg’ stare at him. Besides the wizard’s staff, ‘Castiel’ is dressed for running in a dorky headband, an orange athletic shirt, and black running shorts. ‘Meg’ wears black slacks and a blue polo.

‘Castiel’ looks up. “An untethered soul … clearly on a journey of redemption…” he says in awe. A crafty look comes over his face.

“Who are you?” ‘Meg’ demands in a whisper.

‘Castiel’ raises his staff: a white spark forms in the center of the crystal. “Cover your eyes,” he says. Meg swiftly covers her face and takes cover against the grass. Sam sees her swift reaction and covers his face just as--

White explodes from the staff.

# Inside a Fort.

‘Castiel’, ‘Meg’, and Sam appear in a cramped room dug halfway into the ground. Uneven brick steps lead out of the defensive fortification on both sides of the room. Outside, colored light from a second chain of explosions clashes with the gentle glow emanating from the cut stone floor.

The room is manned by two guards: one person in khaki shorts and a blue athletic shirt carrying a compound bow and arrows, and a knife attached to his belt with a carabiner. A second person is similarly equipped, sitting on a low, wooden bench, eating a tin of tuna salad with a cracker. A small pile of crackers is balanced precariously on her leg. Serrated teeth glint in her red, open mouth. They look subtly inhuman.

‘Meg’ lands on the floor in a heap underneath Sam. Sam scrambles to his feet. Before the enemies react, Castiel levels the crystal at the two guards and makes a slicing motion. White light splashes the two people: where it touches, their bodies open up and blood, liquified flesh, and organs spatter on the floor. The body of the person standing falls to the ground, but the body of the one sitting down stays upright, headless, her body cavity open and gaping.

Two bright soul lights float out of the bodies.

‘Meg’ looks disgusted as the blood and body fluids spatter her and Sam’s lower legs. Sam looks between ‘Meg,’ ‘Castiel,’ and the souls.

“That didn’t take us as far as I’d hoped,” ‘Castiel’ says, his eyes focused on the souls. His arms tremble as he holds his staff level. The souls slowly suck into the crystal at the top of ‘Castiel’s’ staff.

‘Meg’ asks sharply, “Are we inside the Fort?”

“Yes,” Castiel says.

“Great. Behind enemy lines. I should have stayed home when I woke up and my legs weren’t working,” ‘Meg’ says from the floor. She’s lying like she can’t move from the chest down. “Why do I listen to you? You have the worst plans, it’s--”

‘Castiel’ looks calculatingly at Sam.

‘Castiel’ levels his staff at Sam--

Sam dives forward and knocks the heavy crystal end of ‘Castiel’s’ staff towards the floor. His hand brushes Castiel’s arm: Sam’s body disappears, leaving behind a ball of soul light. Sam’s soul jumps into ‘Castiel’s’ mouth.

A flabbergasted expression comes over ‘Castiel’s face. Meg stares up at him.

“I’m ... full of feelings,” ‘Castiel’ says.

“You’ve eaten souls before. What’s different about him?” Meg asks.

Shouts come from outside the fortified manhole.

“It’s … horrible,” ‘Castiel’ says with a constipated look. “He’s literally been in Hell.”

“Get us out of here!” Meg yells.

A figure looms in the small doorway at the top of the stairs.

‘Castiel’ raises his staff. Blinding white light fills the room.

# Heaven. The Garden.

The scene returns to Castiel and Hadraniel. Castiel returns with a flutter of wings. The ball of twine unravels in a blur leaving Hadraniel holding only a few strands of it. Behind Castiel, Hadraniel slowly unfreezes as the yellow light fades.

Hadraniel tests his limbs and backs away from Castiel. “Where did you send the soul?”

“To seek his redemption,” Castiel answers. “He will find peace.”

“You are not as you were.”

“I am greatly changed for the better,” Castiel says calmly. “I have found faith, as you--”

Hadraniel drops the twine and flees. The trees of the garden shift and hide him.

Castiel pauses a moment. He picks up the twine. His angel blade - sized and shaped like a butter spreader - elongates and changes shape into a thin, pointed cane. Yellow light trickles from the point. Castiel inscribes Enochian symbols on the path in front of the darkness leading to the new world.

# The White House.

**Washington, D.C.**

Dressed in bland, dark suits, and carrying attache cases, Dean and Toni follow an elderly government official’s jittery entourage into the White House. The white-haired Senator is on the phone. “Yes, we’re almost there. Set one up with ABC, I know Richardson’s… Yes... Make sure the overwhelming message from media sources describes the death as an unfortunate accident.”

Dean and Toni walk past a secret service officer and separate from the group. Down a hallway, they walk into a small bathroom, where a ladder, a tool caddy, and a bag of clothes wait for them.

“Right, let’s get started,” Toni says briskly as they change into the workmen’s outfits. “I’ll handle the spellwork. You get the corners.”

Almost ignoring her, Dean takes off the suit and puts on overalls and shoes.

“When you are done, you will walk outside with the ladder and tools. Load the ladder onto the dolly. A white van will be waiting at the corner of Pennsylvania and 17th. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah,” Dean says.

“Good.” Toni takes out a copper bowl and sets it on the sink. She takes out bags of blood, dripping with condensation, and spill them into the bowl as Dean finishes dressing behind her.

Dean opens the attache case, takes out hex bags, and places them into the tool caddy.

“Luckily this building is a regular shape. Do _not_ miss any of the corners,” Toni narrates in her villain voice.

Dean walks out the door with the ladder and tool caddy. As soon as the door swings shut, Castiel appears with a flutter of wings, his hand outstretched to touch Dean’s forehead. “C--”

Castiel touches Dean’s forehead with two fingers. Dean and Castiel disappear. The ladder and toolbox clatter to the ground.

The door swings open. Toni Bevell is standing back in the room as if she kicked the door open. her gun raised.

# New York

**81 Northbound**

A black SUV speeds along the highway. A cell phone rings.

Mary and Ketch are inside. Mary is eating french fries from a paper bag in her lap as she drives north on 81.

Ketch answers his phone.

“I have a problem,” Toni Bevell’s voice comes from over the phone.

“A problem. Yes, of course you have a problem,” Ketch says.

“Yes. Dean’s having a heart attack,” Toni says. “I moved his body into the secure room. I need one of you to come here and help me with the warding protocol.”

“She has a problem,” Ketch says to Mary.

“Right,” Mary sighs.

“The hunter is incapacitated. Lady Bevell needs you to install the warding hex bags in the corners of the White House as she works the spell.”

“Hmm.” Mary pulls over to the side of the road and unbuckles her seatbelt. “The timeline for the next step?”

“There shouldn’t be a problem,” Ketch says.

Mary leans over, and gives him a peck on the lips. She takes the bag of takeout and gets out of the SUV. “Good luck,” she says as she steps out of the SUV into the sun.


	3. Chapter 3

**The White House.**   
**Washington, D.C.**

Inside the bathroom, Toni Bevell puts her cell phone into her pocket. The copper bowl of blood and spellcraft ingredients clutter the sink and counter. She takes out a knife and slashes one arm, letting the blood drip into the palm of her hand. The blood swirls.

“Castiel took Dean, who is carrying items we require to implement the plan.”

She closes her fist and washes the blood down the sink.

  
**A parallel universe. Outside of a Fort**

‘Castiel’ and ‘Meg’ reappear on the other side of the grassy mound they were hiding behind earlier - the earthworks shelter a row of four iron cannons.

Uniformed soldiers in ill-fitting garments scramble behind the cannons, loading them with crystal shells crackling with electricity. The soldiers loading the shells wear oversized oven mitts and heavy fur aprons and face away from the light and heat of the shells. Exploded, shattered shells litter the grass; stray crackles of electricity buzz dangerously.

‘Meg’ lands on the grass and rolls to a stop. ‘Castiel’ jogs a few steps, then braces himself: with a sweep of his staff, the electricity in the crystal shells stops. A muffled continuous scream of pain emanates from each of the shells.

The nearest soldier throws his disarmed shell to the grass and picks up a musket with a bayonet. He charges ‘Castiel’. Other soldiers react more slowly. One drops his shell to the ground. The rest turn to run deeper into the Fort.

‘Meg’ draws a copper dagger from inside of her pants, as the nearest soldier races past her.

With a flick of his hand, ‘Castiel’ throws a knife from his pocket -- the handle sprouts from the soldier’s gut. The tip of the musket drops, the bayonet stabs into the grass. The soldier lurches to a stop, the butt of the long musket sliding up, rammed into his armpit as he topples over. ‘Meg’ crawls. She slashes the soldier’s right achilles tendon, then yanks his leg so he sprawls in the grass with a choked-off scream.

‘Meg’ laboriously stabs her way up the soldier’s body, dragging herself to his throat. Before she finishes, a second soldier, the last enemy by the cannons, lifts a musket and fires. ‘Meg’ flinches at the boom and spins her head around to see the miniature sphere fly through the air and hit ‘Castiel’ in the chest. He staggers back. The sphere bounces off and drops on the ground.

“Ouch,” ‘Castiel’ says, holding his staff with both hands.

“Well that’s anti-climactic,” ‘Meg’ sniggers.

The second soldier waves his finger in the air, as if he’s writing and pressing icons on an invisible touchscreen, and says desperately, “I’m filing a complaint. That’s illegal soul magic.”

“The soul I’m using has an extremely high pain tolerance,” ‘Castiel’ says. “It’s in no way harmed by suppressing Indra’s fire. In fact, the convoluted and horror-filled backstory the designers implanted is making me feel ill. My team is entitled to make use of once-in-a-blue-moon random events!”

“‘Cause luck hasn’t been running on our side,” ‘Meg’ says drolly. The soldier lying next to her moans as he bleeds out.

“The moderators will decide that,” the soldier snaps. “We’re in time out.”

“You’re not doing your friend any favors. He’s going to need a regen tank,” ‘Meg’ comments, “...unless your Team’s toughing it out with ‘natural healing’ for the bonus points.”

“Like your Team?” the soldier sneers.

“Her condition came on prior to the start of this cycle’s Game,” ‘Castiel’ says coldly.

The soldier standing crosses his arms and glares at ‘Castiel’. “I’ll take my chance in arbitration, Team NoRulesNoLimitsNoJustSayNo.”

‘Castiel’ stares back at the soldier. He moves reluctantly to lift the spell: waving his staff carefully back and forth. One by one, the shells come back to life with crackling electricity. The screaming cuts out, until only one voice cries out in agony.

Silence.

“And your team name is stupid,” the soldier sneers.

“Shut it, ElvenRage,” ‘Meg’ cuts in before ‘Castiel’ can respond. “We’ll see what happens when the moderators adjudicate this.”

She extracts her blade out of the wounded soldier’s shoulder and wipes it awkwardly on the grass, then carefully rolls away. ‘Castiel’ crouches to check on her. “I’m fine,” she hisses. ‘Castiel’ stands up and lets ‘Meg’ drag herself into a sitting position against his legs, his staff ready.

A pair of enemy soldiers runs from the cannon battery behind them. The standing soldier shouts, “We’re in adjudication!”

“Indra!”  
“What happened?” The pair of soldiers shout out. They stop and don’t move closer. ‘Castiel’ jerks back and forth, turning his body to keep an eye on all of the enemies. ‘Meg’ lets her head loll back and follows the conversation with her eyes.

“I filed a complaint,” the soldier shouts.

The pair discuss the situation, then the shorter guy shouts, “Okay, we’ll tell the Capt--”

A glowing bubble appears and incises a burnt circle in the grass, cutting off the shorter guy’s words.

“I can’t believe this!” ‘Castiel’ whines, looking up.

“Can it,” ‘Meg’ says, looking up.

A beam of light descends on the grass between the opponents: An armored angel with bird-like wings floats in the air. A moving circle of shields, emblazoned with a mountain, spins around the moderator.

The angelic moderator speaks in a booming voice. “Moderator 845. I’ll need to see the random event soul, Player 8054.”

“Right away, sir,” ‘Castiel’ says smarmily. He coughs. Nothing comes out. He coughs again.

“What?” ‘Meg’ asks.

‘Castiel’ doesn’t answer, but pounds his chest with a constipated look.

‘Meg’ says, “Let me lie down.” She shuffles off ‘Castiel’s legs.

‘Castiel’ bends over and hacks pitifully. “I’m not delaying, it’s not coming out,” he gasps between coughs.

Moderator 845 watches impassively.

“Let me help,” ‘Meg’ says, pulling at ‘Castiel’s leg. “Would you just…” ‘Castiel’ sits and then half falls over as ‘Meg’ tugs at his leg. ‘Castiel’ continues to cough weakly as ‘Meg’ manhandles him. Finally, she gets in position spooning ‘Castiel’ from behind, and rams her joined hands into his stomach.

‘Castiel’s’ mouth gapes open, a bright soul light shines in his mouth -- oozing black tendrils drag it back into ‘Castiel’s’ stomach.

The moderator’s arm shoots out. The soul pauses, just a hint of it’s light visible in ‘Castiel’s throat.

“Push!” ‘Meg’ rams her hands into ‘Castiel’s stomach again.

With a nasty retching sound, the soul flies weakly out of ‘Castiel’s mouth, tethered with a black tendril into ‘Castiel’s mouth. ‘Castiel’ waves his staff urgently, his cheek pressed into the grass, coughing up bile.

The angel levels a spear at ‘Castiel’. “Player 8054, disqualified--”

‘Castiel’ leaps to his feet, dragging Sam’s soul upright. “What--” he gasps.

The moderator continues: “That soul is not registered in the game.”

“How did it get here?!” ‘Castiel’ flaps both arms, turning his entire body into a WTF! statement.

“Release your captive souls and prepare for transport,” the angel says impassively.

“… This soul was trespassing in Game territory. I thought it was a side quest,” ‘Castiel’ pleads, Sam’s soul bobbing up and down with his words, “May my disqualification be reconsidered on the grounds that I couldn’t have known this soul wasn’t part of the game!”

“I’m rescinding my complaint, I thought he was using my teammate,” the soldier says.

‘Castiel’ stares at the player, baffled.

The soldier taps in front of him. “Penalty for a retracted complaint … paid.”

“Penalty accepted,” the moderator says.

“Would you please let them go, before you get transported,” the soldier says to Castiel.

“Go on,” ‘Meg’ says, looking at the fallen soldier bleeding out. “If he dies in time out, he’ll have to pay for a new body.”

‘Castiel’ glances at ‘Meg’ then back at the moderator. Without any outward movement, souls stream out of the crystal on ‘Castiel’s’ staff. The moderator captures them in a bandolier of glass vials that appears in the air, magically.

“Thanks. Soul magic is illegal, outside of the game,” the soldier says.

“I know that,” ‘Castiel’ says. He stares at the moderator and quickly swallows Sam’s soul in a gulp. “And I know that standard moderators are not equipped to capture dangerous criminals.” He levels his staff at the moderator.

The moderator disappears, but the bubble remains.

“Did you kill him?” ‘Meg’ asks.

“No, scared him off,” ‘Castiel’ says. “It won’t be long.” He looks at ‘Meg’. “You’ll have to get your own body.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way. Should have known it was too good to be true. What are the chances?”

‘Castiel’ swallows, like he’s tasting bile in his mouth. “It wasn’t chance. A mage sent this soul to me to seek redemption in a kinder universe. I might as well follow through, now that I’m slated for destruction.” He looks at ‘Meg’. “The Hell memories were real!”

“Sucks to be him,” ‘Meg’ says. “They might not … convict you. We both thought it was a random event. They’ve done weirder things.”

The soldier backs away warily as ‘Castiel’ approaches the nearest cannon.

“It’s suspect to practice soul magic at all, even within the Game.” ‘Castiel’ takes a sphere of Indra’s fire. “But what can I say. I find pleasure in toying with people’s lives.” He straightens up.

“Fare you well,” ‘Castiel’ says, raising his staff. The sphere of Indra’s Fire crackles in his other hand: blood and cracks appear on his palm where the fire burns it.

“And you,” ‘Meg’ says, turning to cover her eyes. Behind her, the soldier backs away, arm shielding his face.

White flashes over the scene, and ‘Castiel’ disappears.

**A Montessori preschool.**   
**Gennevilliers, France.**

Dean and Castiel materialize outside of the Montessori school.

Dean takes a long look at the children playing in a gigantic sandbox filled with shovels, plastic molds, and castles. Other kids race around on tricycles with helmets, going through an obstacle course with traffic cones. A third group of preschoolers play on a low slide structure with a hanging wooden bridge and a balance beam. Other children are dispersed over the grassy area and a small hill with a battered tree, whose lower limbs are barkless and worn smooth, climbed on and well-loved for many years.

“...Cas,” Dean’s voice rough with emotion.

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel watches the children placidly.

“You trust it.” Dean jerks his arm at the kids.

“I have faith. Human young are shaped by their early experiences to adapt and to succeed in their micro-culture. I have placed him in an environment supportive of prosocial behavior.”

Dean looks at Cas, but Cas looks only at Lucifer’s son.

Dean stares at the child. “You call that faith.”

Lucifer’s son looks around, then goes back to riding his tricycle through the extremely fun-looking obstacle course, which appears to be a pretend delivery route, or maybe a type of relay race. He takes a flag from a teacher and heads to a box where other flags stick out.

Castiel smiles at the child and says, “Yes. He saved Sam and Kelly’s souls.” Castiel’s face stills back into an imperturbable mask. “Hadraniel attempted to send Sam’s soul into the new world. I called him back and have given him what he most desires.”

As Dean and Castiel talk, Lucifer’s son gets stuck on a cone in the obstacle course. He climbs off his tricycle and unsticks the cone from his wheel, then gets back on. Another child waits behind him to go around the cone.

“What he desires most?” Dean scoffs.

“Redemption,” Castiel says.

“How’d you do that?” Dean says.

“I sent him to a place where it will occur. In a game.”

“A game!” Dean says angrily.

“Shhh,” Castiel says sanctimoniously, “your reaction is overly emotional. Control yourself.”

Lucifer’s son is staring again. He gets off his tricycle and disappears, appearing next to Castiel. Castiel crouches to take the child in his arms. “Yes, my child?”

Lucifer’s son glares at Dean from under his bicycle helmet.

‘Castiel’ gently removes the bicycle helmet with one hand.

Dean crouches. He looks at the child, then looks at Castiel and says in a pained voice, “Sam’s soul doesn’t belong in a game.”

“I chose carefully among the universes,” Castiel says. “I cannot leave my child long, but I have another matter to deal with. Lucifer is close to breaking through Hell.”

Silence.

Dean says, “Toni Bevell had a plan.”

  
**Another parallel universe. A park**

  
Parallel universe ‘Castiel’ appears in a stand of trees and brush in a grassy park of hilly lawn, scattered trees, and well-kept beds of flowers.

“Your universe has recently moved,” ‘Castiel’ says. “Nothing is easy with you.”

A noise. ‘Castiel’ turns. A small child is standing at least ten feet away on a trail that winds through the stand of trees, staring at ‘Castiel.’

“There’s nothing to see here, I am merely talking to myself,” ‘Castiel’ says.

The child’s parent appears from down the trail, walking a small dog dressed in a blue shirt, and pushing an empty stroller.

‘Castiel’ turns. In the distance, ‘Sam’ calls out loudly to a woman as he packs things into an SUV in the parking lot. A small child stands at his side, watching, and two others are with the woman.

‘Castiel’ disappears into the brush. The parent walks on. The child points at the brush where ‘Castiel’ disappears, and the parent says, “What did you see there?” The child stares. The small dog sniffs and yips excitedly. “Shh, let’s be quiet...listen...” the parent says.

**A house.**

In a residential street, peering into the living room of a house with large windows, the room appears empty, then shimmers, moving in reverse as if looking back in time.

‘Sam’ and a slim, athletic woman with blonde hair stand in the living room. He slips a hex bag into the woman’s bag before she turns away, they kiss and mouth words in reverse. ‘Sam’ hugs the woman.

The view switches back to forwards in time. The woman looks puzzled, up at ‘Sam’. She says something. The words get clearer. “...want me to take the kids with me?”

“Of course, honey, I need some me time, that deadline is coming up fast.” ‘Sam’ smiles. “Take care.”

The woman kisses ‘Sam.’ “Love you.”

_Crunch. Boom._

A neighbor’s foot scrapes again the pavement as he lumbers outside. It shouldn’t be loud, but it is. The view backwards in time, freezes.

The neighbor carries a garbage bag and puts it in a trash can, then walks back in the house.

The front door of ‘Sam’s’ house swings open, like a dark maw opening into the house.

_Tink._

Invisible, ‘Castiel’ approaches the doorway slowly. His staff taps lightly on the paved walkway lined with pink, yellow, and indigo wildflowers and he steps on the smiley face doormat on the concrete porch. He touches the door with the end of his staff.

‘Sam’ is waiting inside, standing in a circle inlaid in the wood floor. Sigils ward the windowsills and corners of the walls and are drawn on the ceilings. A bookshelf lines the hallway, with photos of his family.

‘Sam’ says, “Enter, with no ill intention, and I welcome you.”

‘Castiel’ drops the invisibility spell and steps across the threshold. The door closes behind him.

“I am hosting a soul on a journey for redemption. I missed the universe and ended up here. You are his counterpart.”

“You missed,” ‘Sam’ smirks.

“Yes, I did. Are you going to help me or not?”

‘Sam’ tries to suppress his smirk, transferring the smirk to the rest of his face, and says, “Let me see the soul first.”

“Fine,” the soul mage huffs. He coughs out the soul, grabs it with his hand and holds it out.

‘Sam’ touches the soul with a finger, flinches and jumps back, stumbles on a stair and catches himself with one hand. “I’ll help him.” He straightens, warily.

“Good. I need a body for him.” ‘Castiel’ holds the soul in one hand.

“You can’t have mine. Find one when you get there,” ‘Sam’ says hoarsely. He gives ‘Castiel’ a narrow-eyed glare.

“I had no intention to take your body,” ‘Castiel’ says, swallowing the soul.

‘Sam’ huffs disbelievingly. “I’ll help you track his universe. Let’s go to the garage.” He holds his arm out, for ‘Castiel’ to walk ahead.

‘Castiel’ gives him a look, then walks ahead, past the bookshelf that holds happy family photos, including one with ‘Castiel’.

“Open it,” ‘Sam’ says behind ‘Castiel’.

‘Castiel’ opens the door to the two-car garage. It is neatly lined with shelves, with a hanging board with tools. Half of the garage is taken over by a cauldron, a floor painted with sigils, and shelves of witchcraft supplies, and boxes stacked against the walls like a hoarder lives here. A blue gym mat is propped against one shelf. The half of the garage closer to the door is empty of a car.

‘Castiel’ sits on a stack of cardboard boxes as ‘Sam’ assembles ingredients. He fills a cauldron with water, blesses it with a chant, and it bubbles ominously, then stills. ‘Castiel’ hops off the stack of boxes and they both peer into the water, almost hypnotized.

A clunk and voices from outside. ‘Sam’ leaves the garage and speaks inaudibly to his wife and kids. He returns to look into the cauldron with ‘Castiel’.

‘Castiel’ says: “Ah, I see. Their world should have entered a cycle of partial rebirth. The souls slated for Hell are cursed to be reborn until they are purified and may enter Heaven. However, the turning of the Wheel went awry.... Entering their universe will be tricky.”

“Just ... look for points that haven’t changed,” ‘Sam’ says.

“Their Heaven remains similar, but angels will notice my arrival. Purgatory is filled with monsters. What a dark and cruel fate. My arrival will be a blessing for them.”

‘Sam’ gives ‘Castiel’ a dubious look and thumbs a pouch, small in his giant hand.

Without giving away his intent by looking, ‘Castiel’ swings his staff at ‘Sam’ and knocks the side of his head. ‘Sam’ crumples to the ground. In a blink, his bright soul comes out of his body and sucks into the crystal on ‘Castiel’s’ staff.

‘Castiel’ spits out Sam’s soul and shoves it into the body’s mouth.

Sam blinks and looks at ‘Castiel’. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” ‘Castiel’ says. “I could feel you rummaging around my head. Very willfully. It was annoying.”

Sam sits up, looking at ‘Castiel’ as if there’s something wrong with him.

“You needed a body, I got you one. And he was preparing some sorcery against me,” Bizarro Castiel says.

“It was self-defense. He was only going to use it if you attacked him.” Sam gets up, grimacing and holding his head with both hands, like it’s exploding in agony.

“Clearly it did not work.”

“This is his body,” Sam says.

‘Castiel’ scowls. “Everyone’s a bleeding heart today. Why don’t you try out family life and see how you like it.”

“Purgatory has--” Sam says.

“Absolutely not. I’m not risking my soul on the chance that Leviathans won’t devour us,” Bizarro Castiel says. “And portals can be closed. This appears to be a secure--”

The door from the garage to the house opens. The blonde-haired woman comes out. She looks worried, seeing Sam holding his head. “Are you feeling okay?”

Sam pastes a pleasant look on his face. “I’m fine, just talking to Milo about a parallel universe.”

“Okay. I’m putting the kids to bed…. I left tea for you in the blue thermos. ”

“Thanks. I’ll be right there,” Sam says. He looks at her and then gives her a peck on the cheek. She smiles up at Sam and walks back inside. The door closes.

Bizarro Castiel grins widely. “Good job.”

“Castiel--” Sam says.

“Ah. Excellent idea. Except my counterpart is hiding.... It would be easier to look for the cog that prevents the wheel from turning.”

‘Castiel’ grabs Sam’s arm. They disappear.

**The Bunker, Storage Room**

Crowley is searching a storage room in the Bunker, with shelves of curse boxes. He’s holding an intricately carved wooden box and looking over it.

Bizarro Castiel and Sam appear almost in the same space. The three people fall in a heap on the floor and the box clatters on the ground, but stays shut.

Red smoke boils out of Crowley’s mouth and curls into a cloud resting on Bizarro Castiel’s hand.

Bizarro Castiel stands up carefully. “Fascinating.”

Sam scrambles to his feet, staring at Castiel and the red smoke hovering in a cloud attached to Bizarro Castiel.

The red smoke slithers down. When the last tendril of red smoke disappears, ‘Castiel’ says, “...There. The wheel has turned. Hell is in a separate universe.”

Bizarro Castiel smiles with all of his teeth.

**A Guest Home**   
**Gennevilliers, France.**

Castiel and Dean sit on a bed. Lucifer’s son sits on Castiel’s lap, while Dean holds a visual encyclopedia and reads to the child. The artifacts Dean took from the Men of Letters are on the table.

Castiel freezes and Lucifer’s son looks up at him.

“Cas?” Dean says.

Castiel looks puzzled. “The world has changed. I can no longer see Hell.”

“Blurry,” Lucifer’s son says.

Dean eyes them.

“Yes, it is blurry. I cannot see Hell directly, but it’s presence is a defining point of our reality.” Castiel kisses the child feather-light on his hair. The child kisses Cas on the cheek.

“I--” Castiel suddenly disappears. The child drops onto the bed.

“Hey, it’s just you and me,” Dean forces a smile. “Cas’ll be back.” He settles the kid on his lap and keeps reading, “... and that’s the magma chamber,” he points out the photo. “A magma chamber is a pool of hot liquid rock--”

Castiel reappears, looking flustered. He grabs Dean and the child by their wrists and they disappear.

In the empty room, Lucifer appears. He touches the warm bedspread, and disappears.


End file.
